Sometimes I get so irritated with trying not to offend someone while that someone doesn’t give a fig about my sensibilities. My family is filled with people who are quick to take offense at the slightest thing, for instance were I to mention I’d like to buy some car accessories, someone would say "You think my car is crappy?" Um, no, I didn’t even mention your car and am, in fact, thinking solely of my own, so don’t feel bad. I don’t know if it’s a cultural thing (another young lady from this neck of the woods blogs and I’ve seen her take offense at pretty much nothing) because there’s a lot of suspicions in my part of Appalachia or if it’s just me.

My issue is my illness, of course. I’ve mentioned a few times that I have issues getting people to understand the extent of it. Since no one can see that I’m in pain they think I must not actually be in pain. The same holds true for my fatigue. Well, almost because I generally look very tired when I’m dealing with that. It’s incredibly frustrating for me to deal with their attitudes toward my illness especially because I’m always explaining to them why I’m not talking about them and not dropping hints and not even thinking about being offensive toward them. When I discuss things with them I am using hidden meaning and double. I’m simply discussing things. So I spend a lot of time easing their minds and experiencing none of that from their end.

I should explain that by "them" I am, in fact, talking about 3 people in my family: Grump, his mother and my mother. Grump and my mother are especially frustrating because every time I say something they jump to conclusions. I think I chose to marry Grump because he’s so much like my mother (they used to say women chose spouses that are similar to their fathers, but I’ve never known my father) and it’s something that chaps me way too often.

Back to my point. Last night my mother was over and I wasn’t feeling very well. I was actually suffering from cold chills and fatigue. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her here, but I was ill and just wanted to lie down and watch "Monk". Considering that she is in a position where she doesn’t have access to a television I thought she’d like to join me. Well, Grump said something she didn’t like and then went upstairs, so she immediately went on and on about him. When he came back down, she just gave him the silent treatment. This isn’t necessarily something I really care about, to be honest, because I’ve been dealing with their strange relationship for years. Grump then got offended and went back upstairs to stew. The tension was thick and it irritated me to no end. I told my mother that I wasn’t feeling well and could she just ignore Grump "for tonight". She immediately went on a tirade about how if I didn’t want her there she would leave. I told her I wanted her there and would she please stay to watch the show. She calmed down. But, apparently, she didn’t forget.

A little while later I told her I didn’t want to sit on the front porch because I wasn’t feeling well and just wanted to lie under the covers on the couch. Then I spilled soda on my shirt. I said "I’ll be right back. I’ve got to change my shirt." Don’t you know she left the minute I went upstairs? I was walking back downstairs when she was turning her car around. I said to her "You’re just going to leave without telling me?" It’s something I find incredibly rude because, well, she taught me it was rude to leave without saying "Good-bye" to your host. She said she thought I didn’t want her there and that’s why she was leaving. I was so angry. I didn’t even bother to say anything else. I went back inside. I’m over it. If she wants to be offended, well, there’s nothing I can do about it. I won’t hear from her for a couple of weeks and then she’ll be back (usual story).

It’s funny that she made assumptions about my "illness" (they always emphasize "illness" as if it’s not real, which chaps me even more) yesterday. She should know me right? You’d think she’d know when I was being crabby and secretly wanting her to leave, because, well, I’d tell her I didn’t want company. Grump and my mother both know I’m particularly outspoken about certain things. They know there are no hidden meanings behind what I say. Whatever. But Grump’s mother I will allow that maybe she just doesn’t "get" me.

I would appreciate some actual concern from those that I care about the most, especially when I’m not feeling well. I’d appreciate my mother not being offended by every little thing I say. I’d appreciate my husband getting to know me well enough to know that when I say “I’m cold” I’m not saying “TURN OFF THE AIR” (because I would just say “turn off the air” if that’s what I meant). I’ve even told both of them that they are too easily offended. I’ve explained to both of them that it’s hurtful when they question my illness and symptoms. I’ve had those talks with them as if they’re children to whom I’m explaining “the birds and the bees” and it’s not helped. It doesn’t help when I lose my temper either. I think, maybe, there’s just something about me that puts people on edge. I don’t have any other explanation for it.

I can be acerbic at times when I’m truthful. I’ll admit that. Which makes it even more confusing because my people know that when something is on my nerves I’ll just say that something is on my nerves. I don’t dance around the subject. I don’t “drop hints” and hope someone picks them up. That just leads to more of the same. I’ve learned that through therapy. But maybe my therapists (and Dr. Phil) don’t understand the psyche of the perpetually offended/paranoid. I don’t know.

I know that it seems like a cultural thing, because when I lived in another part of the state (just one county up) I didn’t have the same kind of problems communicating with people. And they didn’t have problems communicating with me. I think living up there showed me a different side of people and tainted me to the people that have lived in this county for their entire lives. It’s stressful, but I’m not giving up. I’ll figure out a way to communicate my needs and get them to recognize their offensive actions. One way or the other.

I mentioned on my other blog that I was out researching Price Pfister faucets when I missed a golden opportunity. Now, I didn’t want to go into details over there because I didn’t feel it was the proper venue for telling such a tale. This is my personal blog where I chronicle my trials and tribulations with my family, illness and career goals (and possibly my accomplishments, which have to date been few and far between). So, I’ll expand a little here.

On Tuesday I had the opportunity to participate in a conference call with Sharon Gless and Bruce Campbell, two stars from USA Network’s "Burn Notice". I don’t get paid by USA Network for anything I write about regarding them. I do my little bit of work with a marketing company that works with them because I am honored to have been chosen to do so (someone from the company ran across the work I was previously doing on Bella Online and contacted me via them). I have the opportunity to pre-screen shows as well as interview people working on those shows. Again, I am grateful for the opportunity to work with them. Especially because “Burn Notice” is one of my favorite shows. At any rate, I was unable to participate in the call, but they were kind enough to give me a transcript of the question/answer session. I was so incredibly disappointed that I missed that chance and am kicking myself for it.

You see, Grump doesn’t take my ambitions and goals seriously. And so neither does any of his family. His mother will gladly keep Mags for him while he’s at a VFW meeting, but will find 1000 reason to deny me when I want someone to watch her while I’m doing my work. Because I don’t get paid to write about “Burn Notice” or any of the other programs (“The Cleaner” and “The Andromeda Strain” are two others about which I’ve written) they don’t see it as “serious”. They believe that I’m just wasting my time.

Now, my mother-in-law works in realty. She’s quite good at it and has a good clientele. She makes good money. But she does things to increase her exposure and improve her “brand” that actually cost her money and for which she doesn’t immediately see a return. She’s done this for years and so has become quite successful. I’ve tried to explain to her that I, too, would like to one day become successful in my chosen field and that one of the ways to do this is through exposure and “working” for pretty much nothing. I explained that some of the work I do via my blogs do pay me, though I’m not getting rich, but that work helps pay the bills that will eventually allow me to receive more money in the long run. I explained that this is important to me and for my future goals. Grump poo-poos my time online and sees no reason why I would need a babysitter while I’m at home—even though I would be on the phone and need that time to be uninterrupted. Neither of them are capable, I think, of seeing the long-term benefits. And that’s very frustrating to me.

The good news is that Mags will start school in a couple of weeks. That will give me plenty of time during the day to do the work I want to do and see where that takes me. I’m also in school so that I can earn a degree and possibly have a career in something completely unrelated. So I’ll have that too. While I’m waiting for all of this to come to fruition (and struggling with my disease on top of it all!) I also have a brick-and-mortar job that helps pay the bills. I’m not lazing around watching soaps all day and being unproductive. I’ve got goals and need to be able to work on reaching those goals—at the same time I’m meeting my responsibilities as a mother and wife. I believe that I’m due a little leeway and understanding here.

I understand that this post seems to be more whining than anything. It’s not. I’m frustrated. I was so proud to be contacted by that marketing firm because of the writing I am capable of doing (though you wouldn’t know it to read me the last few months, would you) and I really want to participate in their campaigns—regardless of the lack of monetary payment. I did something that was recognized as good and capable and asked to participate in something. That made my head swell to gigantic proportions. It’s upsetting to me that my spouse and family fail to recognize how this is important to me. And so I vent. Hopefully I won’t need to do that much longer and will be able to post my accomplishments more (as I have more time to concentrate on my writing). I’m looking forward to that. My initial plan was to take classes during the day—while Mags is in school, but that’s changed.

I’ve decided that I’ll be taking two nights of classes and working during the day. My brick-and-mortar job only requires a few hours a week at a time (for which I make pretty decent money in this area: $1,200 a month) and I’ll be able to that primarily on weekends. I’ll find the time for all of that and still be able to mother Mags in the evening and weekend afternoons. I’ve wasted plenty of life not doing what I want to do and doing for other people what they expected of me. I don’t think that it’s so bad that I do for myself with this free time I’ll finally have. Grump won’t even know that I’m not going crazy trying to find 5 full minutes to type up a post. Then maybe we’ll both be happier.

I wish, though, that I could have participated in that conference call. Next time, if I’m offered the opportunity, I’ll be the first one to call in. For sure I won’t miss that again. If only for myself so I can say I did it. That’s really important to me at this point.

I’ve mentioned that I’ve started a new diet and exercise regimen recently. I’d looked into the top diet pills and other diet wonders, but settled on a diet recommended by the Mayo Clinic. I’m also doing a lot of exercise, including, but not limited to, increasing my mundane daily activities. I’m walking stairs, cleaning walls, running around work like a chicken with my head cut off. I’m trying to get the blood flowing and the muscles building.

Unfortunately, I seem to have forgotten that I’m not the same as everyone else. I have a chronic disease that is aggravated by too much physical exertion. I forgot because I was feeling so good. So I kept going and going and going—determined to get off that plateau I’d reached with my weight loss. Sadly, I’m remembering now that I should take it easy and do only a little at a time.

For two days I’ve been in the middle of a flare. The last week or so I’d felt really good and almost forgot about the pain. A couple of days I even went without my pain meds and got a decent night’s sleep. I was under the impression that I could go further and do more. Of course, the extra exercise does help with Fibro pain, the doctors are right about that. But it doesn’t eliminate the pain or keep the flares at bay forever. It doesn’t cure the disease. It just helps—as long as you don’t push yourself beyond the threshold of the pain.

I knew that I’m one that should do two days of the exercise program and then take 2 days off. That’s just how my body copes. I know this. I get the adrenaline pumping and the endorphins going, then have to stop, rest, and regenerate (??). I have to give my poor body a break no matter how good I feel. Of course, I didn’t do that. I’m too stubborn. I want to be normal and when I start to feel that way I think I am normal. But I’m not. I will never be again. I’m different and have to come to grips with that.

That’s the hardest part of having a chronic disease, I think. Accepting that this will be the rest of my life and there’s nothing I can do to change that. My lifestyle can’t be like someone else’s, I will never be without pain and I will never go more than two days at a time without the crushing fatigue. That’s incredibly depressing for me. I want to get the house in order, play with my child and do my job better than anyone else there. I want to go out dancing and canoeing and experience the fun of summer—every single day. But I can’t. I can only do a few things at a time when I feel up to it. That means that on my good days I’ll have to make some choices about how I spend my time so that I will have more good days and shorter, more rare flares. I have to learn to plan every day as if I’m going to have a flare, because otherwise I’m disappointing the entire family as I can’t do with them what I’d promised I would do. Do I do the yard work today and sit out the dancing? Do I rest on the elevator instead of taking the stairs because we have plans later on that day? Will Mags and I have to paint indoors instead of walking to the playground today?

Some days I really hate my body and what I feel is it’s betrayal. My mind and soul need to be active and out and doing things until I pass out from exhaustion. But my body won’t allow it. And when my body rebels, my mind follows and the pain, depression and fatigue come calling. When I’m really enjoying myself and really making progress (I think) then it’s 10 times worse. It’s like I’ve been taken out and beaten down with baseball bats. I felt good getting active and getting the blood pumping, but now I feel like curling up and hiding from the world. It’s back like the monster it is and there’s nothing I can do about it at this point. I have to find a way to accept that this is my life forever and adjust my lifestyle accordingly. Rest is good. Taking it easy is good. Pain is bad.

Actually, that’s a pretty good mantra. I might just add that to my meditation practice.

I think I’ll address the problem of the family, job and doctor refusing to accept my illness either. No, I can’t do the laundry today even though I was throwing shovelfuls of mulch yesterday. No, I can’t do extra assignments today even though I was like Flash Gordon yesterday. No, I’m not superwoman today, yesterday or ever. Heh, like that ever works for me. I have a list of things my husband wants me to accomplish today before he comes home from work because he says “You want to lose weight don’t you?”